A Helping Hand
by ConnorCat
Summary: "Sherlock was his best friend. Surely a once off, never to be spoken of again hand job was acceptable. Right…?" Teen!lock sleepover. Slash, lemons. Just one of those oneshots full of young Johnlock goodness.


**Author's Note:  
**_Hey, guys. I haven't uploaded anything for a good few months now. I'm half way through chapter 9 of what you know as "Savin' Me". But for future reference when I actually update, I have renamed it to "Built for Sin". It sounded better. Anyways. This oneshot is just a typical teen!lock where Sherlock comes onto John who as per usual denies that he is gay ahah. So yeah, enjoy! _

**Disclaimer:  
**_Not miiiiine._

* * *

John rolled over in the large, double bed and stared at his best friend who appeared to be sleeping. The duvet was tucked loosely underneath his armpits and he lay on his side, his messy curls falling over his eyes.

It was Friday, the night of the week when John and Sherlock would have a sleepover. They had been doing so since they were seven; it was a weekly ritual they hadn't been able to stop. Each time they would have pizza for dinner and then stay up all night watching horror films without their parents knowing. They always ended up sleeping in Sherlock's big bed together due to John being frightened half to death from the movies. But that was when they were younger.

As they grew older, they ditched the horror films and started watching thriller and suspense, because that was what interested Sherlock. These films didn't frighten either teenager, however they still shared a bed each Friday night and tonight John didn't know how to feel about it.

Two hours ago, John and Sherlock had just finished watching a pornographic movie that had come up on the telly whilst Sherlock was flicking channels. John had asked Sherlock to turn it off out of embarrassment, but his friend seemed to find his bashfulness amusing and hid the remote down his pyjama bottoms. So John had no other choice but to sit and watch the porno.

It wasn't the fact that it was porn that bothered John. He'd watched porn before. Quite a few times. It was the fact that the porn had been two men. Fucking. Quite aggressively. And also that John was watching it with his male best friend. Those facts were enough to make any 17 year old, straight boy feel uncomfortable.

Sighing, John ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, trying to sleep for the umpteenth time that night. He couldn't stop thinking about that damned porno. He hadn't liked it. Of course he hadn't. He just couldn't help but get a little turned on at seeing someone get pounded like that. Stupid teenage hormones. He wondered if it had turned Sherlock on...

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

"Go to sleep, John."

"I need to ask you a question."

"If I answer it, will you go to sleep?" Sherlock had opened his eyes now.

John rolled his eyes. "So my question... Um... That porno we watched... Did -"

"Yes."

"Huh? I haven't even fin -"

"Yes, it turned me on."

John gulped. "Oh."

"Sleep."

Sherlock rolled over to his other side, leaving John more wide awake than before. So it had turned Sherlock on, too? Did that mean Sherlock was gay? No, he couldn't be. It turned John on and he sure as hell wasn't gay...

A brief image of one of the actors getting a hand job flashed into John's mind and his cock gave a twinge in his briefs. He bit his lip. Worst possible timing. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't wank off in his best friend's bed and he sure as hell wasn't getting up and doing it in Sherlock's bathroom... His cock gave another throb and John winced. He forced himself to relax and think of dead bodies at a crime scene. Surely that was a turn off... Apparently not. John lifted the duvet up slightly and stared down at the tent like figure proudly on display. He whimpered in frustration and slid his hand down his clothed stomach.

"Want help with that?"

John froze and then snatched his hand back. "Sorry, what?"

"Your erection." Sherlock stated bluntly. "Do you want help with getting rid of it?"

"W-what do you mean?"

Sherlock sighed. "Would you like me to give you a hand job?"

"NO!" John sputtered, his face growing hot.

"Okay."

John could feel his heart beating uncontrollably and hear it in his ears. Had his best friend actually just offered to give him hand? Where on Earth had that come from?! And why did he still have a bloody erection? If anything could make it go down, it would be images of Sherlock rubbing his dick. Because he's not gay and the idea of his best friend doing that to him is a major turn off...

"Liar."

John blushed again. "Fuck off, I'm not a liar. I don't want you anywhere near my cock, got it?"

"You sure about that?"

"Y-yes... Yes, I am..." John shuddered as he felt a hand creeping up his leg.

The hand stopped and John felt Sherlock press his lips gently against the back of his neck before moving away and getting comfortable on his side of the bed again. A tingle shot up his spine and he could feel that his cock was still as hard as it could possibly be. With a strangled moan, he stuffed his hand down into his briefs and pulled his erection out, freeing it from the constraint. God, he needed a wank…

"John this is my final offer."

John didn't know what to do. "I'm not gay! Why are you trying to feel me up? You've never tried before!"

"Calm down. You'll only make your erection worse. Just let me do this for you." Sherlock's hand was on John's thigh again.

"Get off of me!" John exclaimed, pushing his cock back into his briefs. "I don't know what you're into, but I like girls!"

"Don't be so obtuse." Sherlock's eye roll was practically audible. "That has nothing to do with whether or not you can enjoy an orgasm from me."

"Of course it bloody does! If I don't like boys, I won't like one touching me." John rolled over and faced his best friend, getting rather frustrated.

Sherlock was staring at him intently, his grey eyes looking mischievous, like he was planning something. A small smirk was playing at his lips and John's erection gave a twitch. He gulped. Sherlock's index finger was gingerly running up and down the unclothed skin on John's arm and he gave a slight shiver, goose bumps forming. He gazed across at his friend, taking in his unruly mop of curls that were sitting just above his eyes in a way John thought was rather cute.

Sherlock inched closer, their noses mere millimetres away and John felt a rush of uncertainty flood through him. His heart went ballistic and his ears grew hot. His stomach knotted itself together and his fingertips tingled.

"What are you doing?" He breathed.

Sherlock dared closer, their lips practically touching. "You are nervous."

John was speechless and yes, he was nervous as all hell. He felt Sherlock's hand moving slowly down his side and resting gently on his hip. A slick, warm tongue brushed gently against his lower lip and then light fingertips gently grazed against his now quite obvious erection. John swallowed hard and heard a restrained, squeaky moan escape him. God, he was so hard and desperate for release. It was beginning to hurt and John was beginning to think that maybe a quick hand job from Sherlock wouldn't hurt…

"Hm," Sherlock hummed against John's lips. "I'll take that as an invitation."

John sucked in a breath as he felt Sherlock's mouth begin to travel down his chin and onto his neck. He was leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and John's head was beginning to spin. Sherlock's lips were warm and soft and powerful and had started kissing John's Adam's apple quite passionately. John's cock throbbed painfully inside his briefs and he could feel a familiar sensation brewing in his stomach; a mix of anxiety and pleasure.

"Sh-Sherlock… Ahh… Ung, oh God…" He moaned helplessly.

John reached up slightly so his fingers were able to weave their way into Sherlock's curls and press their clammy tips against his scalp. Sherlock exhaled sharply at the sudden contact and John felt teeth nipping at his skin. He whimpered loudly and pressed his fingertips down harder, tugging on Sherlock's hair tightly. This apparently encouraged him and he began to suck harshly on the flesh, causing John's erection to worsen even more. He could feel pre-cum leaking into his underwear and a moan slipped past his lips.

"Ugh… Ohh, Sherlock… Sherlock…" John was writhing against the bed. Sherlock nibbled his Adam's apple. "SHERLOCK! AHH! STOP!"

The pleasurable feeling in his neck came to an abrupt halt and Sherlock stared up at him, his eyes wild with lust. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I just… Why does it feel so good? I don't like boys…"

"You're such an idiot," Sherlock sighed, sitting up. "Why do you think that you won't enjoy me doing this just because you aren't attracted to men? I'm not either, you know. I'm not really attracted to either gender. Except… Except you."

John was puzzled. "Why me? I'm nothing special…"

"Don't make me talk about this. I have enough trouble with emotions as it is. I just know that I find you, well… John I think about ravishing you all the time. Your good looks do very bad things to me."

"Oh…"

John could feel his face burning. Sherlock found him attractive? Sherlock _fantasised_ about him? For how long? Why hadn't he ever said anything? Why him? And why did he still have a goddamn erection?!

"I know you don't feel the same. I was selfish and took advantage of the fact that you are ridiculously aroused. It was wrong of me. I apologise…" Sherlock was staring at the mattress.

Nervously, John sat up too and stared at his best friend. He looked sorry, actually, and ashamed. He was picking at a loose strand of cotton on his pyjama bottoms. Sherlock was nervous, too! Feeling relieved, John knelt in front of him and took a deep breath. He didn't like boys. But Sherlock was his best friend. Surely a once off, never to be spoken of again hand job was acceptable. Right…?

John cleared his throat. "Well, er… Sitting here sulking isn't going to get rid of my erection, now is it? Which by the way, is quite painful now thanks to you."

Sherlock's head snapped up and he studied John carefully. "Are you sure? I don't want you to think you have to let me…"

"Sherlock… I want you to. Please. Make… Make me cum."

John licked his lips anxiously and watched as Sherlock sat up on his heels and leant in closer, his eyes focusing on his mouth. He traced his index finger under the curve of John's chin and then suddenly Sherlock's lips were on his. John hadn't expected them to be kissing and froze, unsure of how to respond to the gesture. A part of him was really enjoying the sensation of Sherlock's soft lips against his own and the other part was screaming at him to stop. He shouldn't be kissing a boy when he's supposed to be straight! What was going on?

Sherlock pulled away and frowned. "Did I do that wrong? It was my first time."

"Um, no…" John blushed. "It was… Fine. I'm just not sure how to feel about this."

"We can stop whenever you like. Just tell me and we will."

John nodded, feeling assured. Cautiously, Sherlock leant in towards him again and pressed their noses together, their lips grazing. John could hear his heart pounding in his ears and feel his face filling with heat. He felt Sherlock's hands cup his face and then he placed a very gentle kiss against his lips. Sherlock held the kiss for a few moments before retracting his mouth, producing a smacking sound as their lips broke contact. John was still as hard as ever and despite his anxiety and confusion, he timidly inched closer to bring their lips together a third time. Sherlock moaned softly and John allowed him to lay him down against the pillows, climbing on top of him. Their clothed erections were suddenly pressed together and John bit down hard on Sherlock's lip at the abrupt contact, a jolt of electricity running through him and straight to his cock.

"Ugh… Sherlock, I… Oh, God…" John moaned helplessly.

Sherlock started to grind against him. "Do you… Want me to stop?"

"Ah! Nngg…" He buried his face into Sherlock's neck. "Don't stop, please…"

With a throaty groan, Sherlock started to move faster, and all John could do was wrap his arms tightly around him as the intense pleasure started to rapidly build up in his cock. Sherlock lifted his head so John could no longer shield his face and crushed their mouths together. John moaned and glided his hands up Sherlock's back to grip handfuls of his curls, tugging on them desperately. Quite abruptly, Sherlock's movement stopped and John almost swore at the loss of friction. God, he needed an orgasm. He was dying here!

John laid his head back and pushed Sherlock's face away. "Why the hell did you stop?!"

"Well," Sherlock said breathlessly, "I can't have you orgasming on me _just_ yet."

"Why not?! You bloody sadist!"

John threw his head to the side in frustration and breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling against Sherlock's. Sodding bastard… _Oh_. He felt a hand sliding down his stomach and then move gently over his raging erection. He moaned. Loud. A jolt of pleasure filled his stomach and cock._ Fuck_.

John bit his lip. "Please… Don't… Don't stop…"

Sherlock pressed his palm flat against John's crotch and rubbed over the bulge more fervently, burying his face in John's neck. Unable to control his moans, and rather embarrassed by them, he grasped Sherlock's face and forced his head up to bring their mouths together. The other boy seemed to welcome the invitation and pushed his tongue past John's lips, making him gasp in surprise.

The hand was now gripping his cock through the fabric of his briefs quite hard and John could feel his head beginning to spin. At this rate, if Sherlock didn't actually start giving him hand, he would cum in his underwear just from this. Trying to hint, John bucked his hips and moaned loudly into the other boy's mouth. The hand let go and slipped back up John's torso.

"No! You can't do that!" He whined, pushing Sherlock off of his mouth.

Sherlock grinned. "I'm not sure I know what you're referring to."

"You sodding great asshole… I'm desperate!"

"For?"

John blushed and looked away. "A hand job…"

"What was that?"

"A bloody hand job, alright?! You heard me! I want you to grab my fucking cock and rub it until I cum everywhere!"

Upon realising what he had just said, John felt his face redden even more. He really wasn't doing a good job at convincing Sherlock that he's not actually gay… God, how embarrassing! But he bit his lip and forced himself to look at the other boy still poised over him, attempting what he thought was a cute, innocent smile.

"Fuck… You look really… Hot and vulnerable right now…" Sherlock practically moaned.

"I was aiming for cute…" John grumbled.

Sherlock leaned down to kiss him. "Oh, that too."

Surprising himself, John reached up to grasp Sherlock's curls and pulled him down onto his mouth, thrusting his hips up. He felt Sherlock's lips part from his for a moment as a sexual gasp escaped him but then quickly regained himself, slipping his tongue into John's mouth and reaching down to force his hand between John's legs. Another moan managed to escape him as Sherlock began gently massaging his sheathed erection with his palm, his fingers grazing at his balls. Goddammit, he needed to get his underwear off! Without a second thought, John reached down and tugged on his briefs, raising his hips slightly to make the task easier. He felt hands grip at his wrists, stopping him and he let out a loud noise of frustration.

Sherlock pulled away. "Don't panic; I'm just going to do it for you."

Relief washed over John and he again bit his lip – he was doing that a _lot_ tonight! – as he watched Sherlock straddle his legs and pull his boxer briefs down until they were around his knees. John's cheeks grew hot only now as the realisation sank in that his erect penis was proudly on display for his best friend to see. He squeezed his eyes shut and then felt slender fingers wrap around his cock in a loose grip. He felt Sherlock's hand begin to move up and down, his thumb smearing over the tip of his cock.

John's eyes flew open. "God! What are you… Ugh… Shit…"

"Did I do it wrong?" Sherlock immediately stopped. "Was that okay?"

"No, you idiot! Don't stop! _Don't stop!_"

Licking his lips, Sherlock continued with his handiwork, only now rubbing more generously. John moaned, his legs trembling and his cock aching. How did Sherlock get so good at this? It _couldn't_ be his first time! He was doing things to John that he couldn't even do himself and the pleasure he could feel in the pit of his gut was intensifying by the second.

Sherlock sped up again and John cracked an eyelid lazily, watching the display below. He met his best friend's eye and a groan slipped past his lips as he saw Sherlock's lust filled eyes. What he saw next was quite possibly the biggest and most confusing turn on of his life. John watched as Sherlock clumsily reached into his pyjama bottoms and began moving his hand inside of them, harsh whimpers and breathy moans now escaping him. He was rubbing vigorously at the both of them and John could feel himself on the brink.

"Sh- Oh God! Sherlock! I'm… Can't… Need to…"

"Oh, John…"

John grasped handfuls of the bed sheets as he felt his balls tighten and his mind going completely blank, barely hearing the moans escaping his mouth that were mixed with Sherlock's short cries of his name. As his orgasm subsided, John let out a harsh exhale and stared down at his best friend who looked rather out of it with his eyes closed and his hand still down his pyjama bottoms. He slowly opened his eyes and cracked a lazy smile in John's direction.

"You gonna be able to sleep now? I mean, you did just get wanked off by a male who also happens to be your best friend when you _apparently_ like girls."

"I've been with girls before and liked it! Doesn't mean you've converted me or whatever," John blushed and threw the pillow at him. "But yes, I'll sleep fine tonight."


End file.
